


Unforeseen

by uncertainAuthor



Series: Prompt Writing [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fanged Gabriel, M/M, Sappy Old Farts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-21 23:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14925497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncertainAuthor/pseuds/uncertainAuthor
Summary: An unforeseen meeting between old soldiers in an unlikely place, a missed chance, and a spared life.





	Unforeseen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Veraverorum (your_Mother)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_Mother/gifts).



> Another prompt work, dedicated to the lovely veraverorum! Thank you again for sending me the prompt ♥

Blood stained teeth grit together as the soldier pressed against the wall, holding his ragged breaths as he heard the pounding of boots from what felt like everywhere as panic tried to take hold.

It had been a careless mistake, believing that Talon would be so stupid as to not have guards posted at the entrance he’d staked out. It wasn’t luck, it was a damn trap. He should’ve known better.

“Search the area, he’s still around here somewhere.” The digital, distorted voice of a Talon grunt sounded far too close, down the hall if he were to give his best guess, and the crunch of too many pairs of boots let him know they were headed right his way. The room he was in didn’t have nearly enough cover for him to try and take them on without getting hit, and the aches in his shoulder and legs protested the thought of being riddled with even more bullets.

He didn’t want to die here. Jack had always known he’d die in a gunfight, in his youth having even bet some of his old friends when he first enlisted that he’d go down like a hero in a hail of gunfire from some omnic bastard, rushing in like an idiot. They’d all laughed about it and went on fighting the good fight until the war was won and he’d had to fork over his week’s earnings to make good on losing the bet.

Dying here, hiding like a coward in some abandoned storage closet… that wasn’t the kind of death he wanted. After everything he’d done for the world, after everything he’d been through, he wanted something a little more fitting than being pinned in a corner by a squadron of Talon cronies and shot down.

If they were even planning on killing them, of course. He had no doubt that they might want to try and crack his brain open just to see what secrets might fall out.

The old soldier took a slow, quiet breath, reloading his rifle as quietly as he could. He wouldn’t go down a coward, he’d at least give them a hell of a fight. Enough of one that, if he did go down, he’d take a decent chunk of them down with him.

The stomp of boots halted outside of the door and Jack took aim; his finger rested at the ready on the trigger, waiting for the door to inevitably swing open.

The sight of thick, curling black smoke billowing in from the narrow space under the door certainly wasn’t what he was expecting, eyes narrowed behind his visor as he watched the smoke take form.

“Hiding like a rat, are we Jack? I thought you’d have more dignity than that, boy scout.” The gravelly voice was mocking the minute the Reaper finished forming, Jack’s pulse spiking just a bit higher than it should.

“Call it an unforeseen, emergency tactical retreat, I don’t exactly have the luxury of hiding down here until they call off the search.” Jack huffed, leaning against the shelf closest to him as his stomach made an uncomfortable lurch. Even with all the effects of the enhancement program, he was getting old, and a man his age can’t take a body full of bullets without protesting. “Here to rub it in my face that I screwed up?”

The wraith of a man stepped over to him, the clunk of his boots echoing off of the walls in the otherwise far too silent room. The echo reverberated through the throbbing headache, and Jack couldn’t help but let out a huff of a laugh as he slipped down to a seated position. “What’s so funny?”

“Were there really any other people out there, or was it just your ugly ass boots stomping around making an old man paranoid?”

Smoke curled around him as Reaper descended, the leather-clad man kneeling in front of Jack. A silvery claw traced along the rim of his visor, trailing down to lift his chin.

“Sorry to disappoint you, soldier, but it’s just you and me. I might’ve dropped a hint that I saw one of your biotic fields and a trail of blood leading to the observation deck.” Even with the mask on, he could hear the smirk in his voice.

Jack furrowed his brow, confusion seizing him as the latch of his mask hissed open. The red haze of his visor blinked off, the brief moment of dark before the faceplate was removed feeling like an eternity. When the room came back into focus, his own mask wasn’t the only one gone. The alabaster skull was dissipating into tendrils of smoke, the white wisps fading gray until they turned as black at the rest of the smoke drifting off of him.

It took far too long for the words to come to his lips, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Why the hell would you want to lead them away from me?”

The Reaper grinned, all fangs and smoke as he leaned forwards. Something dancing the line between excitement and fear flitted through Jack’s chest, their faces a mere breath apart. He could smell the sharp, acrid scent of his smoke with how little space was between them, and the soldier could’ve sworn that the look in the mercenary’s eyes was something close to guilt.

The look disappeared almost as quickly as it came, replaced by a cocky smugness as Jack felt a claw tracing along his jawline, red eyes half-lidded and hungry. “You’re  _mine_ , Jackie. If anyone gets the thrill of tearing you apart, it’s going to be me  _personally_ , and it’s not going to be because you’re pinned in a corner, waiting for death.” The soldier’s heart hammered in his chest, brain fighting between the urge to punch Gabriel square in the jaw or leaning in and stealing just one more kiss before they went back to the game of cat and mouse, to being the Soldier and the Reaper.

He was at a loss for words, all but frozen in place as the wraith stood, the unforeseen moment of closeness having passed him by before he could do anything but sit and gawk. “You might want to take the east exit, by the cargo bay. I’ll keep everyone in the west wing.” Tendrils of smoke swirled between the other’s hands, the mask reforming from the wisps before being slipped back into place, the persona of Reaper slipping back with it as the brief moment of almost having Gabriel back vanished.

Jack grit his teeth as he pushed himself up, fighting a grimace as he snatched his own mask off of the floor. Reaper was already heading for the door, body halfway formed and halfway smoke. “Hey,” the callout got his attention, the man turning to face him, “I just… Thank you, Gabe. I mean it.”

There was a short moment of silence between them before Reaper scoffed, giving a small shrug. “Don’t thank me just yet, Jack. You’re not out yet.”

The soldier couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he latched his visor back into place. The red-tinted view blinked to life as he grabbed his rifle, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders as best as he could. “See you around, Reaper.“

The masks on either of their faces hid their smiles, but Jack could hear it in his voice. “I guess so,  _Soldier_.” Without another word, the man dissipated, shifting into smoke before slipping under the door just as he’d came. The unforeseen meeting was over, and Jack wasn’t going to let Gabriel’s kindness go to waste. 


End file.
